Going down tracks, listening to a whistle blowing into
the sadness of my being.
Whistle touching and playing the emptiness climbing
within, trying to get out and into the atmosphere.
Traveling in time to rhythms of abandonment, taunting
my spirit with tears hiding desperately in my heart.
All the while this heart breaking, finding it's pieces
scattered upon the floor of the train.
Rumbling and rambling down the tracks in tune with it's
whistle of sorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem